catchingthecab.

Imagining things are on their places

                —- places they ought to be.

Not being too passive

                —- afraid a memory would slip out.

“Once these flowers bloom, pick them

                Up and bring them to me.”

I remember every tone, ups and downs,

                That you applied, speaking naive.

I also remember, I laughed after you said that line

                —- like I don’t really care; like I don’t really mind.

That laugh’s almost true until you frowned.

                —- predicting myself? I should’ve told you nothing;

                Worse, said something just to make you feel better.

But I didn’t. I left, planted the sunflower seeds back of the structure.

For that certain moment when I plowed deep,

                Threw in seeds and watered them,

                I thought of no one else but you.

I ran to you – inside the roof – and startled when I saw

                The reality; when I realized that I can’t exist – at least not with you.

                That the first time the seeds touched me, they died.

                That I don’t stand on the ground, but floating in the air.

                That by my mere existence – from the time I let you see me –

                You are harmed. That I, I am

      Your death.

Jakirostrife